Pages

Thursday, March 20, 2014

This Isn't Shawshank

This one sucks. Sorry about that, but there's no way around it.

That's how diabetes works sometimes.

For me, it feels as if there's dark clouds overhead and tornadoes and thunder moving in, and there's just no way to avoid the storms -- not even by hiding inside those storm shelters of in-range blood sugars and community inspiration.

I'm caught up in the suckage of suspense, waiting for an answer that might help tell me what the fuck's going on, but dreading that answer as much as I'm anticipating it. So right now, I just need to get this out of my system with a little keyboard-fingertip tapping...

An endo visit where all seemed OK, except for the expected "keep on pluggin" message that was obvious before I even walked into the clinic that morning.

Nothing else out of the ordinary, except an off-hand comment about potential complications and an unfamiliar medical term written on the lab-work order.

Curiosity leads to the evil Dr. Google. A stupid move, but the only way to feel like I'm actually "doing something" when there's nothing else to do at the moment but wait. And even before the blood's sucked out of the fussy vein on top of my hand, it's already clear in my head that something's amiss. Self-defeating behavior, at it's best... or worse.

Everything erupts, flooding my brain. Thirty years of pent up emotion bubbles to the surface, boiling over and spilling everywhere. An emotional earthquake, fueling itself off its own tremors.

More regret, about what could have been. There was never any guarantee that this would happen, or that everything would be OK. But even now as these prison walls close in, there's no guarantee of what's ahead. Yet, the prison walls keep closing in.

I've become institutionalized to these prison walls of diabetes, and this world I've known since age 5 is now becoming unfamiliar, more scary, a maximum-security prison with solitary confinement instead of the county jail holding tank it seemed to feel like lately.

And my only reflex is to blame myself, to fear for the future in the present moment like never before, and just sob until my mind goes numb. And the conversation plays out in my head, a version of what a talented script-writer and actor once communicated so brilliantly to the masses:

But instead of Red to the prison committee guy, it's me talking to my endo about how I wish I could fire-up my flux-capacitor and travel back to when I was a teenager.

"Michael William Hoskins, your files say you've served 30 years of a life sentence. Do you feel you're compliant now?"

Compliant? Well, now let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means.

"Well, it means that you're ready to rejoin the ranks of controlled diabetes..."

I know what you think it means, Doc. To me, it's just a made up word. A politician's word, so endos like yourself can wear a white coat and tie, and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?

"Well, are you?"

There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm here with possible complications, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime (of diabetes apathy). Of not testing my blood sugar. Letting my A1Cs get into the teens. I want to talk to him. I want to try to talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone, and this old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that. Compliant?! It's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, Doc, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit."

Except I do give a shit, I am scared and it does matter. And it feels like there's nothing I can do about it, because I've been behind these glucose-saturated bars for 30 years and it's too late to take back those years.

Compliant? Hell, no. I haven't been, far too often during the past three decades. It's my fault, even if it isn't, and no matter what I do now it doesn't take back the past. Whether I'm "compliant" now or not, the possibility of scary complications makes it feel like these prison walls are closing in tight. And even with good behavior, there's no way out without taking a shiv to the gut.

This isn't Shawshank, and there is no redemption.

At least not now, until those lab results come in and the endo's office calls me back...

Wow, Mike. I'm not quite sure what to say. You can apologize for what you may have done in the past, but please don't regret it. Regret will give you nothing but grief -- you're better off working towards, and hoping for, the best possible outcome in the future. Only looking forwards. That's what I hope for you -- the best possible outcome in the future -- because it's what you deserve.

And however this whole saga turns out. don't forget how much your experiences and your candor have affected and benefited others. You're already a diabetes superstar.

Thank you so much for your bravery and honesty in writing this. The most powerful post I have ready this year by some margin. And I know many who will see themselves and their own struggles in what you have written.

I'll join with thousands of others to stand alongside you (in a wibbly translucent cyberspace hologram) as you await your results.

As a wise old kung-fu turtle might say, "yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift - that's why it is called the present"

So the question is, Mike, whatcha gonna do? Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'? I know you choose what Andy Dufrense chose .... even if sometimes it does feel like swimming through a half mile river of SH**.

None of us gets out alive or unscarred by this disease, but none of us get to go it alone. That's what I know, thanks to the DOC and the wonderful people who fill my heart with a thousand emotions on a daily basis. No matter what, we are with you, whether you like it or not. The past? It's the past. Regrets? In the past. Whatever is ahead, we walk with you.Much love. We have plenty to give.

If diabetes were a movie it would be directed by Wes Craven one day, Tim Burton the next, and Judd Apatow the next, and on and on. It is a screenplay without an ending and within there is the greatest movie villain of all time. But your script has not been written yet, not even close...and you have many twists and turns left before the climax. Since you are the hero of your movie I predict you will be like Bruce Willis and will at some point tell diabetes, "Yippee ki yay, Motherfucker!"

A commenter on my blog once "diabetes isn't a death sentence, but it IS a life sentence. For a crime you did not commit.". For such as simple simple statement, I found it powerful. You cannot and should not beat yourself up for being human, and having human nature. Give yourself an appropriate break and ask why medicine avoids curing diseases but turns more and more into chronic diseases. That's not a record for medicine to be proud of IMHO.

The past is what it is. We can't control our circumstances--but we can control how we respond to them. It's beyond okay to feel every single thing you're feeling--and it's okay to need time to figure that out. There are many of us who are here to support you through this, and the journey ahead, in whatever way you need us to.

We, who use the written words all of the time seem at a loss what to write to you because the words we rely on; fail us now to make a difference in the life of our friend. Love is a word we do not use a lot when we write---but we do Love You Mike.....you are part of us; and we a part of you. We wait along with you and WHATEVER it is....we'll be here for that too. In our thoughts....and more importantly; in our love, friend.

What do I say that's not already been said? Diabetes doesn't play fair. Like Scott said, the game is rigged. It's just not a fair fight. And that sucks. I come at this from a different perspective... But I can tell you that if this was Ave, I wouldn't want her to blame herself. They tell how what to do to manage D. But then send us off to do it. Alone. And we have meters and Cgms and pumps and all kinds of STUFF. But what about the emotional part? That's what makes it so hard. That's what burns us out. I would tell Ave- forget about the past and forgive yourself. There was no manual for any of this. You're human. We make mistakes. We fall short. It's just who we are. I'd like to see one person who has lived with D for 30 years who has been perfect. Impossible. But don't give up. And know that we are thinking of you and while we can't take any of this away, we can promise you won't face it alone. Love from me, J and Avery

Your Corner Booth Host

Mike Hoskins

Who Am I?

Just a guy in his 30s, who's been living with Type 1 diabetes since the age of five. A husband, friend, dog owner, journalist, writer, history lover, movie buff, Sigma Pi Man, and huge fan of Coffee & Conversation.

Southeast Michigan Adult D-Community

The Indy Adult D-Community!

In Search Of....

In My Corner Booth

My Diabetes Life

I'm spending most of my time these days writing about diabetes over atDiabetesMine... I'm very proud of the diabetes journalism work there, so make sure to go check out that "diabetes newspaper with a personal twist." Meanwhile, it's fun keeping tabs on my personal life adventures here at The Corner Booth.

Comment Policy

This is my personal comment policy. While I love hearing from everyone and welcome your thoughts and discussion, I only ask for everyone to extend each other courtesy during that commenting. Please leave the personal or negative attacks on another screen somewhere. I love debates and disagreement is certainly welcome, but let’s keep it civil and respectful. On top of that, I’ve recently been thinking about privacy rights that commenters may or may not have. This is tricky and uncharted legal water, but some recent court rulings nationally have raised questions about this. Some news and media sites online have been sued for defamation or been brought into lawsuits because of anonymous comments posted, and have been required to turn over IP addresses and information to determine those commenters' true identities. While this in no way applies to personal blogs at this point, I want to avoid potential issues down the road. So, please know that there is NO EXPECTATION of privacy if you leave a comment, even anonymously. If a court ever orders me to do so, I'll follow the law and that order despite whatever my personal beliefs are on privacy. Thanks for your understanding, and your continued participation here!